🚨 2 AM RESCUE — Post-R&B / Alt-Pop
Sleepless-city synths, midnight rain on chrome & a half-whispered promise: “Baby, let me save ya.”

📜 Story in 60 Words
It’s 2 A.M., neon lights bleed into wet asphalt. You’re one ride-share away from a rooftop refuge where the duvet feels like a rescue capsule. This track captures that single, reckless decision to leave the after-party and chase a softer kind of chaos.

2AM RESCUE

A hazed-out flirtation drifting through warm air and weed smoke. Toaster Ganja is part invocation, part daydream—a looped confession of curiosity, attraction, and ambient highness. Hypnotic vocals repeat like a mantra: “I wanna get to know you… yeah yeah”—floating gently alongside a scent, a car, a vibe that lingers.

It’s a love song in slow motion. You don’t fall—you drift into it. You smell the ganja before the beat even hits. The toaster pulls up. Everything melts.

Toaster Ganja

“That shit snaps, caw.” 

⸻

Rubber band Band (RBB) is the cosmic brainchild of Mahak Hassan, an artist, songwriter, and sonic shapeshifter. The frequency channels gritty elegance, spiritual rebellion, and raw emotional heat. With roots in the Bay Area underground, Rubber band Band blends streetwise intuition with hypnotic, otherworldly energy, fusing rap cadences, chant-like melodies, and celestial textures into something wild, weird, and deeply alive.

Starting from the very beginning at this time, Rubber band Band’s upcoming works lean even further into experimental vocal loops, AI-assisted co-creation, and field-inspired myth-building pulling influence from sacred geometry, dreams, and kitchen-table revelations.

All lyrics and melodies are 100% original and copyrighted.

In the dim glow of an after-school classroom, the first band formed by a 15-year-old Genesiskhode was already turning heads.
“Your songs are cinematic,” producers would rave in unison. But they always added the same devastating footnote: “If only it weren’t for the vocals.”
That voice was the one anchor holding his cinematic sound earthbound.
The setback became rocket fuel. At university, he gutted a six-tatami dorm room and rebuilt it into a “starship studio.” There, he stitched lo-fi, trap, and city-pop into beats that smelled of back-alley asphalt under a galactic sky.
Under an alias, he slipped tracks into indie films and fashion videos—projects fronted by actresses who are now household names. His reputation spread through the underground like neon static.
And so, to turn his former complex into his greatest weapon, he chose to liberate himself from his own voice.
Rebooted as a “voiceless singer-songwriter,” he now carves his inner monologue into his tracks.
Listeners hear the emotional resonance and call it “a soulful voice.”
But the voice isn’t human.
It’s a new kind of soul, forged by technology—from vocaloids to the cutting edge of synthetic voice creation.
The universe may be infinite, but his bedroom keeps finding new corners of it.
And the world is starting to dance in its orbit.

New tracks tagged #post R&amp;B

New tracks tagged #post R&B